Scorpions, Megadeth celebrate high-octane histories at Allstate Arena

Megadeth and Scorpions perform at Allstate Arena in Rosemont on September 23, 2017

Bob GendronChicago Tribune

“You wanna know who I am?” Scorpions vocalist Klaus Meine asked a sold-out crowd Saturday at Allstate Arena. His reply — “I’m in a rock ’n’ roll band” — served as a badge of honor the group wore with pride throughout a 100-minute show that celebrated live traditions long thought outmoded.

Drum solos performed on a hydraulic riser, giant disco balls, studded leather jackets and flamboyant antics might be considered unhip by contemporary standards. But the Scorpions have never really cared about trendiness. Akin to many of the fans who sang along to nearly every word and occasionally filled in for Meine, the German quintet continues to cling to the straightforward identity it’s projected for most of its 52-year career.

Embracing crunch and cheesiness in equal measure, the Scorpions specialized in music tailor-made for belting or crooning in hockey rinks. High-octane songs raced atop jumbo-sized riffs (“Blackout”) and invoked rally cries via fist-pumping choruses (“No One Like You”). Featuring the softness and substance of a Hallmark Channel movie, power ballads (“Send Me an Angel,” “Still Loving You”) triggered lighter-waving sentimentalism and proved the Scorpions masters of the form.

Despite the pop flourishes, the band sounded beefier than during its late ’70s/’80s heyday. Credit goes to the recent addition of ex-Motorhead drummer Mikkey Dee. He changed the rhythmic complexion and brought low-end thunder to familiar anthems as well as a medley of early material that predated the group’s commercial era. Dee’s forceful playing also anchored an impressive tribute (“Overkill”) to his deceased former mate, Lemmy Kilmister.

Not that the other Scorpions needed an energy boost. Meine banged tambourines, tapped cowbells and hammed it up with the audience. Guitarists Matthias Jabs and Rudolf Schenker ran around any chance they got — and provided Meine breathers by spearheading two full-length instrumentals. Even then, the crowd remained the focus, its connection to the Scorpions as obvious as the hooks, fun and showmanship the band generated onstage.

Megadeth, another collective unconcerned with fashionability, opened with a crushing hourlong set that almost could’ve passed for taking place during the thrash-metal quartet’s ’90s height. A mushroom-cloud of hair often obscured Dave Mustaine’s sour expressions, but there was no hiding his anger or cynicism.

Addressing war, greed, mistrust, destruction and divisive leaders — and accompanied by visuals of drones, death and footage depicted in Ken Burns’ current Vietnam documentary — Megadeth’s songs felt uncomfortably prescient and relevant. Devoid of frills and distractions, the performance stood in contrast to that given by Mustaine’s former outfit, Metallica, at Soldier Field this summer.